Captain Swan Holiday Oneshots
by darkestswan
Summary: Just a place to put my CS oneshots up besides tumblr. Happy holidays!
1. When the Clock Strikes 12:17

_Summary: Emma Swan is not a grinch, she just doesn't like Christmas. Her roommate Killian Jones however, cannot wait to decorate the flat. They agree that he can do absolutely whatever he wants the moment Thanksgiving ends, but when tragedy strikes it might be up to Emma to save the holiday she has so many issues with._

* * *

Emma Swan was NOT a grinch or Scrooge , contrary to popular opinion. Just because she was apathetic to christmas did not means that she was a heartless monster ready to steal all the christmas lights- she just didn't particularly like the christmas lights. Or the trees or the stockings and fine she didn't like christmas but she wasn't sure many people with her childhood would.

Emma had been in the foster system- bounced back and forth and back and forth for eighteen years of her life. She was never with a family twice for the holidays, more often than not more than one between thanksgiving and the christmas. No foster parent was paid well for bringing in children, so gifts were an exception rather than the rule, and they were never as nice as what her schoolmates had. She found out santa wasn't real right when she was four, an angry foster father with an affinity for menthol cigarettes and violence had been furious with the fact that he didn't get credit for buying her a set of pencils with his money. People always talked about the magic of the season, but magic wasn't something Emma had ever encountered before, and definitely wasn't something she believed in. Christmas was full of painful memories of houses that could have been homes and houses that definitely should not have been homes but haunted her all the same, and of course it was a reminder that she didn't have a real family to go home to after twenty eight years.

Killian Jones, however, had a completely different way of viewing things.

Emma had met Killian through David, her best friend and partner on the force, who already had a wife and a kid and life figured out. So he clearly wasn't a roommate option when Emma found the most perfect apartment complex in the world with only a two bedroom flat available. Killian Jones however, was a great match. He was David's best friend from college and was looking to relocate from England to the states to be closer to his brother, Liam, who was in New York City. Killian secured a job in Boston, three and a half hours away from Liam and right next door to his best friend. He just needed the apartment.

Emma learned that Killian was raised by Liam after both their parents died, and that he'd been very poor growing up and had struggled a lot through his childhood. It seemed that they had plenty in common, so Emma was more than happy to let him move in.

"You haven't even met him," David said, shocked when Emma gave him the news. "He could be terrible or creepy or-"

"He's your best friend. You trust him, I trust him. I need this apartment, so he can move in when he gets here."

And so it was that Emma Swan first met Killian Jones mid January, with an empty flat and just a few boxes to her name, hoping that two orphans could find a bit of family in eachother.

And they did- from the moment he stepped in the two had gotten along well, and thus surprisingly began the greatest friendship of their lives, even if it was always so close to crossing the line of something more. But after losing so many possible families in the past, Emma knew better than to gamble with the loved ones she had left, which consisted of David, Mary Margret, Ruby, August, and Killian.

Killian of course was the one she saw the most of, and it wasn't just because they lived together. She wanted to be with him, and they had plenty of little traditions to carry them through the week, both needing their fix of takeout and moaning to sympathetic ears and celebrating the wins of the year such as his book's eight week run on the New York Times bestseller list and her raise at the police department.

It started small, Kilian one night arriving home from a bad date to find Emma watching Star Wars, which started friday movie nights. Emma had once walked home to find Mary Margret and David over for supper, thus began Sunday family dinners, which continued with just the two housemates after little Neal was born and sucked away the Nolan's free time. On saturday nights they'd go out and wonder why they weren't getting approached at bars as they chatted to each other leaned into each other drank together and only had eyes for each other. That and one thousand little things that just made being with each other good and safe and nice and homely, and home was not a word Emma used lightly.

Emma was convinced that in the almost year they'd been flatmates she knew everything about Killian, which was why Halloween had been such a surprise.

They were drinking on the floor, the last costume clad child of the apartment complex long gone, but both of them remained in their pirate outfits, Emma's complete with a real sword from Gold's Antique and Thrift Shop, Killian's finished with a long, sweeping leather coat and Emma's black eyeliner.

They had been mid conversation when Killian popped up from the floor, tipsy from the rum he'd been swigging from his skull and bones flask bought specifically for the occasion.

"Swan! Love! It's 11:58!" he exclaimed, running to the closet. "This is excellent news!"

"Why is that?" Emma asked, laughing at the sound of thudding and objects falling as Killian obviously dug through the boxes in the closet. "Hey Captain, what are you- oh no!"

Emma brought her hands to her mouth, shocked to find Killian tangled up in christmas lights, box in tow, with a wreath over his head and little shiny ornaments dropping to the floor around him.

The grandfather clock chimed midnight.

"It's Christmas!" He slurred happily, dropping the wreath to the floor, twisting out of the lights. Emma shook her head, setting down her beer.

"No! No, it's November first!" she argued, picking up the green and red plastic bulbs from the floor.

"Which means it's Christmas," Killian countered. But Emma started throwing the decorations back in the box, labeled CHRISTMAS with one, two, three, four exclamation points.

"Why would you even like Christmas?" she asked, frustratedly trying to get him untangled. "It's depressing for people like us."

Killian frowned.

"Liam and I loved Christmas, best part of the year!" he argued. "Even if we didn't have any money, it was the one time where everyone was nice, everyone wanted to give to the less fortunate, everyone smiled… there would be free ice skating and christmas lights everywhere, and the soup kitchens would have pie. And Liam would always pick out a really good book for me from the library, check it out, wrap it up, and give it to me christmas morning. And I'd read it in a week and he'd return it and it was the greatest part of the holidays."

Emma swallowed. She was not expecting such a sentimental answer, and she was starting to feel like an asshole.

"Look," she explained, collecting the wreath from over his neck, his cheeks and nose pink from the alcohol. "I had the opposite experience. I didn't have a brother or sister. I had August for a very brief amount of time, but not even over the holidays. I got like, pencils and socks. I got yelled at by the foster parents who had too much eggnog and looked at all wrong by my creepy foster uncles. It was not a good time in my life and I can't imagine celebrating those awful moments for two whole months, okay?"

Killian stared at her, finding a little clarity through the rum. Emma wasn't one to divulge personal information about herself, let alone in big huge blocks like she just did, so this Christmas situation had to be pretty dire. He sighed, stepping out of the lights.

"Okay," he frowned. "We don't have to."

But Emma felt so awful she collapsed onto the couch with a groan.

"Okay how about this," she said, peering up at his pathetic dumb beautiful sad face. "The day after thanksgiving, you can put up decorations."

Killian's face immediately lit up.

"Yeah?" he asked, grin growing wider and wider until Emma had to laugh. What a dork.

"Yeah," she said, and suddenly he was on top of her, hugging her tight.

"Anything in the flat?" he asked.

"Yes. But we have to respect thanksgiving as a holiday," she replied. He rolled his eyes.

"Bloody Americans and their turkey. Midnight? The next day? Everything's fair game?"

"Absolutely," she answered, and the joy in his eyes made her think that it could be worth it after all.

Not to mention the warm fuzzy feeling in her stomach and the fluttering of her heart but she focused on the joy because that was a less terrifying thing to think about.

The next month, however, sped by rather quickly, and the threat of christmas lights and holiday cheer was looming. Emma knew for a fact that Killian was already building up a ridiculous collection of decorations, the closet had seven new boxes tucked away behind the little space left for coats, and Killian smirked at her every single time she passed it.

"Just you wait, Swan…" he'd say quietly.

"It's scary enough without the evil muttering under your breath thing," she'd counter.

She was actually relieved when two days before thanksgiving Killian leapt out of his room with a bottle of rum reserved only for the greatest of celebrations.

"I love thanksgiving!" he exclaimed, pouring them both shots. Emma raised an eyebrow, bent over paperwork from the office.

"Some of us have real jobs you know," she said, but took the drink anyway, wincing as the burning liquid ran down her throat. "Some of use don't get to make thousands of dollars after one book and choose to do swork when the moment strikes."

But he ignored her.

"As you know, I do not celebrate thanksgiving, being a loyal servant of the queen. As you also know, I have a brother who is also a loyal servant of the queen. We truly love our queen, Emma, and Liam's wife and his child have never even seen our homeland which is so terribly-"

"Killian, please hurry this up," Emma prompted, scooting her folders away from his splashing rum bottle. Killian grinned.

"Thanksgiving airfare is very cheap, Liam Junior has a week off of school, and I'm going to London with my brother and Elsa for a week!"

Killian took another victory drink and Emma rolled her eyes, but got up to hug him.

"That's great news, Killian. I'm really happy for you."

And she was happy. But he knew why.

"Don't think that you're getting off so easy, Swan," he scolded. "The second I get back this entire place is being covered in holiday cheer. And since our agreement specifically mandated that anything in this apartment was game for decoration…"

He ran into his room and came back with a pile of hideous pink candy cane fabric. It took her a moment to realize that the hideous pink fabric was sewn into a pajama set. A pajama set in her size.

"Oh come on," she complained, but a deal was a deal.

"I expect you to wear those the second the clock strikes twelve. And tell all our mates I'm sorry to dash out. And tell them merry christmas."

In a whirl he was all packed and set to drive to New York, ready to meet his family at their house and then fly back home. Emma would get to spend thanksgiving with her little family and though she was disappointed she wouldn't have her best friend, she was not disappointed that the only christmasy thing she had to worry about was candy cane PJs that were, she had to say, pretty damn soft.

But midnight Thanksgiving morning, Emma got a call that changed everything.

She stole Mary Margret's car, breaking into the Nolan house with her spare keys and scribbling a note to leave on the kitchen table explaining things. They didn't need two cars for last minute grocery shopping and besides, even if they did they would understand. Emma drove straight to New York, not stopping for food water or gas, running on half a red bull David left in the fridge and the adrenaline rushing through her veins.

When she got to the house, the ambulance was still there, though all of the first responders were leaving the scene. Two cars, crumpled and destroyed and bloody, were being prepped for towing, supervised by a police officer. An EMT was wheeling a body bag into the truck.

Emma found Killian and she screamed out his name. He immediately collided into her, sobbing endlessly into her shoulder. They both collapsed onto the ground, Killian no longer able to stand and Emma unable to carry his weight. The sun was just rising and the world kept spinning around them, but time stood still in their little bubble, where she held him and he cried until he ran out of tears.

Anna had taken Liam Jr away from the accident, leaving Killian, Emma and Elsa at the house. Elsa found enough strength to help Emma usher him inside, where they let him nurse a bottle of rum.

Time passed. They slept when they were tired, the outside world losing all meaning. Emma bought food that didn't need to be cooked although Elsa and Killian didn't want to eat. She bought more rum for him, more ice cold vodka for her.

It was two days after Thanksgiving when Elsa began to feel human again, for the sake of her son. She was able to cook, able to talk to family, make calls to friends and lawyers. Killian however, had barely uttered any sound except the weeping that Emma was always present for.

It happened one evening though, it had to eventually. Elsa had gone to take Liam Jr to counseling. Emma was doing dishes when Killian finally spoke.

"Lass. You should go home."

She was surprised to hear him talk, surprised even more when she found that his words didn't slur and he stood before her completely sober. Emma set down the dish and faced him.

"I want to be here with you," she said firmly. "For his funeral. For anything else you need." He scratched that spot behind his ear that he always scratched, and Emma found a little hope that he might be returning to himself again.

But then he said the words that would change everything.

"I don't want you here, Emma."

She was glad she set down the dish because if it had been in her hand it would have smashed to the ground.

"What?" she asked, face falling, heart torn. He sighed, looking to the floor.

"This is the hardest moment of my life, and-"

"And that's why I should be here," she said, but he kept going.

"And you being here is just going to make it so much harder, because I'm in bloody love with you Emma. And I'm emotionally fragile. And I won't be able to stay away like I have been, I won't be able to respect your walls and boundaries and furthermore my heart is already broken and you being here cracks it open more. I want you to stay. But for all the wrong reasons. So I need you to leave. I've packed your things."

Emma couldn't move, frozen in shock. Killian didn't even meet her gaze, he grabbed the bottle of rum from the counter and walked upstairs to his room, slamming the door behind him.

He was her best friend and he wanted her to go.

He was her best friend and he was in love with him.

He was her best friend and nothing in the world made sense anymore. Liam was dead. Killian was dying inside. Everything had been turned upside down and Emma didn't know what to do but what she always did.

She ran.

She got in the car and she drove back to Boston, trying to convince herself that she was leaving because he asked her to, not because her walls were ready to add another ten stories to their height and she wanted to stay away from the hurt and the love and the heartbreak and the possibilities of Killian Jones. She wanted to give him space. She wanted to hold him, to kiss him, to love him back.

When she got to David and Mary Margret's house, it was eleven at night and she stumbled into their living room while they were having their nightly glass of wine.

"Emma!" Mary Margret cried, but before she could ask anything more Emma burst into tears and fell onto the couch, feeling so small and helpless as her friends crossed to her, holding her like they were her parents. She explained the car accident, the call, the two days in New York, everything but Killian's confession. That belonged to her and no one else.

She woke up at five AM the next day, right where she'd landed the night before, but with a blanket and pillow left by Mary Margret. She immediately grabbed her phone, hoping to have some contact from Killian. Nothing.

Not wanting to crowd him during his period of mourning, she chose not to be the one to make contact. It was only a few days later during a night shift that she did get something, a text. She almost dropped her phone trying to open it.

3:31AM 12/1 KILLIAN

I'm going to stay with Elsa for a while. Will send you rent.

Emma wanted to call, to hear his voice, but she knew better. She folded the blanket and set it aside before returning back to her flat, kicking the candy cane pajamas to the floor.

Weeks past and the only messages she got from him were via text, and only when prompted. In a weak moment alone in one of their bars where this time, she got hit on in excess, she shot him a message, hoping she was giving him enough space.

11:01PM 12/10 EMMA

Are you ok? When are you coming home?

One rum and coke later she heard her phone chirp.

11:29PM 12/10 KILLIAN

Helping Elsa pack up the house. Could be a while.

Emma couldn't help but notice that he hadn't mentioned if he was okay or not, which could only mean that no, he definitely wasn't. She thought there was a good chance they'd move, everything had happened right in front of their home. The whole area was a glaring reminder of Liam's last moments, the truck driver who had been given spiked eggnog on accident by a caring family, the entire thing being a huge accident, a huge fuck up that just wasn't fair.

12:22PM 12/20 EMMA

Hope you're okay.

12:24PM 12/20 EMMA

I miss you.

12:31PM 12/20 EMMA

Text me back so I know you're alive.

1:03AM 12/21 KILLIAN

Ok.

Christmas eve rolled around and she had dinner with David and Mary Margret, but christmas day the Nolans were driving to see David's mother, Ruth. Emma had never minded spending Christmas alone so it was a little silly that she was suddenly sad about it now. Her mind wandered back to a blue eyed idiot wrapped in lights with a wreath around his head, wishing he was with her, forcing her to wear candy cane pajamas and decorate a tree. She hoped that he was trying to have a good christmas with Elsa, hoping that he'd pull through with some rum for his family's sake.

1:48PM EMMA 12/25

Merry Christmas. Are you with Elsa?

He responded in seconds.

1:48PM KILLIAN 12/25

No.

Along with the message he attached a photo of just his feet, taken from a hotel room. Emma almost wanted to cry- the entire place was so grim and stark. The wallpaper was torn purple paisley, the TV was playing some news channel. This was not the Killian she knew, this man was defeated and broken.

1:49PM KILLIAN 12/25

Couldn't do it. Couldn't take it.

Emma was going to reply when her phone chirped again.

1:50PM KILLIAN 12/25

Going to sober up then come home tonight.

Her heart raced, and she dropped her phone on her bed, making her way towards the closet. She knew what she had to do, what would make things not right or okay, but as close to right or okay as they could be. She started taking the boxes down, surprised with their weight, laughing at some of the outrageous things that he had picked out. There was a train set and an inflatable rudolph the red nose reindeer, ridiculous things that she knew he'd probably picked out just to annoy her. Sure enough she found that he'd made personalized christmas ornaments from embarrassingly unflattering photos he'd taken of her over the year, but also nice ones of them together- her 28th birthday, his book signing. Important things. Things that someone would do for someone they loved.

Hopefully the same message would be relayed with what she was doing now.

There was a tree set up in the entryway of the complex for decoration, but their landlord was in the virgin islands and Emma assumed she'd either be able to return the thing or claim that it was stolen. It was difficult forcing it into the elevator because no way was she hauling it up the stairs, but she managed to settle it by the window.

Tinsel was everywhere, the tree's weight was 30 percent branches 70 percent decor, she placed her presents for him under the tree, she blew up the damn rudolph even though it barely fit and set up the train and draped lights around the entire room and put the special christmas plate set on the dining room table and hung the stockings and stuffed them with chocolate and set up a fire with the log that released green and red sparks and put on his personal mix tape of christmas music and she even put on the damn candy cane pajamas.

12:07AM 12/26 EMMA

Where are you?

12:14AM 12/26 KILLIAN

Just pulled in. Be right up.

She estimated that it would take three minutes for him to get to the car to the elevator to the apartment, and either her heart completely stopped for those three minutes or it thumped so fast it let out more of a whir than actual beats. She heard the keys jingling in the keyhole, an acoustic version of "All I Want For Christmas Is You" playing in the background, the timing of it all making her feel both lightheaded and sick.

"Someone took the tree from downstairs," his voice rang out. 12:17 exactly. The door shut behind him and he walked into the living room and stopped, eyebrows shooting up, mouth dropped agape. Emma stood in front of him, fists clenched, and prayed to god or santa or whoever was out there that she wouldn't fuck this all up.

"You need Christmas," she stated. He shook his head in awe.

"Emma, I-"

"Liam would have wanted it," she said, knowing if she let him talk she wouldn't have the courage to let this all out. "You can have your rum and you can cry too, but you need Christmas. And I'll give you rum and I'll be there when you cry because you are my family and I love you too, okay? I do love you. I'm in love with you, and you're so dumb for not knowing that you may try to shoo me away like you did in New York but it's not going to happen again. I will chase you with a wreath around my neck and lights and even if it's not Christmas anymore and we missed it by fifteen minutes-"

But she couldn't finish because his lips were crashing against hers, and they were clinging onto each other like the entire universe depended on that one kiss. Killian moaned into it like he'd been waiting for this moment his entire life, and she knew that she'd at least been waiting for it for all of hers. His hands brushed through her long, silky locks and when they parted he gazed at her with eyes that said she was the most wonderful thing in the universe even if she was wearing peppermint candy cane pajamas.

Especially because she was wearing peppermint candy cane pajamas.

"You were supposed to do that over there," Emma breathed, pointing to the mistletoe hanging above the wreaths. Killian let out a low chuckle, and their foreheads met as they stared into the others eyes, never wanting this moment to end.

"Merry Christmas love," he whispered, glancing down to her lips. Emma smiled.

"Not such a bad holiday after all," she replied.

And they kissed and kissed and kissed until everything was as okay as it could be in the world at that moment.

Which was actually… pretty damn great.


	2. Tree's Company

_Emma Swan is looking for the perfect christmas tree and finds it- but so does Killian Jones. This can only mean war._

* * *

Emma had slept four hours, worked ten, and spent two looking for the most perfect christmas tree ever in the "Graham Huntsman Family Tree Lot" and when she found it, her heart almost burst with joy.

This tree wasn't a normal tree- it was a tree of victory and freshness and it smelled almost as christmasy as peppermint hot chocolate (not as good as cinnamon but who the hell cared it was christmas) and she was going to cut it down and decorate it with Henry tonight sleep and dinner be damned. She'd grab some burgers from Granny's on her way home.

Christmas was, hands down, the best time of the year. She had to put in a few extra hours to be able to afford the presents to put under said tree for Henry- it seemed as if every year tacked onto his age was another thousand dollars being hashed out to keep him happy and clothed and fed. He was growing an inch a minute, jeans at this point lasted eight months at best, and she'd wonder how he was doing it if she wasn't aware of how much food that kid was ingesting. He probably got the limitless stomach from her, but he wouldn't be satisfied unless he had two burgers from Granny's at least. And onion rings. And probably another burger.

She had Christmas down to a science though. Mary Margret was more than happy to use her school's winter break taking Henry in, bringing him along on errands and shopping and ice skating and sledding and lights in the park and helping David manage the crazy seasonal puppy adoption- the perfect gift for under the tree. Christmas was definitely a family thing, David her foster brother loved it as well. In fact, it was his mother that taught Emma to love the season in the first place, and she was going to pass it down to Henry, who never noticed that christmas morning she worked midnight to six AM to bring in holiday hours for that little bonus of pay.

She just needed the tree, and everything else would fall into place.

So she speed walked over to it, ready to almost give it a hug, but then she collided into a figure wearing a black peacoat and very blue eyes and almost fell over.

"Sorry love!" he exclaimed, reaching over to grab Emma's shoulders, keeping her upright. He had scruff around his face with a red nose from the chill and red lips from damn good genetics.

Really damn good genetics. Emma found herself a little breathless before backing away from his grip. His warm grip.

"Totally fine, sorry I was just rushing. Can't have anyone nabbing my tree, you know," she shrugged, catching her breath. He nodded with a grin.

"Ah, of course. I was doing the same. It has to be perfect otherwise what's the point?" he nodded knowingly. Emma laughed, tucking a strand of wild blond hair behind her ear.

"Exactly," she breathed out, her exhale forming a cloud in the air between them. They stared at each other, in comfortable silence before he broke it, reaching out his hand.

"Killian Jones," he said, and of course his name had to be hot as well.

"Emma Swan" she replied, gripping his hand and shaking it. When they released she found herself wanting to link arms and stroll through the forest together.

"So which one is yours?" he asked, scratching lightly behind his ear.

Right.

The tree.

That was priority.

"This one," she replied, treading through the snow to gesture to the glorious thing, green and leafy and begging to be hugged in lights. Killian nodded, and for a moment she was proud.

That moment didn't last long.

"You mean my tree," he corrected, moving over to stand by it himself. Emma's mouth dropped, but she shut it quickly, eyes narrowing.

"What do you mean?" she asked, crossing her arms.

"Well, I had my eyes on this one. I probably saw it first you know. I've been here for an hour."

"I've been here for two," she remarked, tone growing cold. "You haven't bought it though?"

"No," he replied. "Not yet."

"Not ever," Emma corrected. Killian laughed.

"Come on love, you're fighting a losing battle. You can have that one," he suggested, pointing at a different tree that probably wasn't all that bad but compared to the tree she had now it was pathetic and awful just like the man in front of her.

"That one? That one is basically a fern!" she exclaimed. "Look, tree pirate-"

"Tree pirate? Can I put that on a business card?"

"Listen-"

"Can I list you as a reference on my resume?"

"Listen!"

"That means I'll need your number-"

"Okay listen pal," Emma stomped her foot, much to Killian's amusement. "This is my damn tree. So you can get your girlfriend a different one."

"Don't have a girlfriend," Killian smirked, crossing his arms. Emma tried not to be glad of that. "Why, does your husband need this tree? Is he compensating for something?"

"Don't have a husband. Just a son who deserves this thing." Killian's eyes brightened but his tone remained the same.

"Oh now there's a child involved, how convenient!"

Graham approached the two.

"Good evening," he spoke. "You two picking out a tree together?"

"No!" they both snapped, but then both stayed quiet, Graham's presence silencing their bickering and also giving them a chance to breathe.

"Look," Killian said, putting his hand in his pocket and fishing around a bit before pulling out a quarter. "We're going to have to flip for this, it's the only way."

Emma groaned, never one to trust luck or fate or destiny.

But then again she had a very interesting night with a very interesting run in with a very handsome interesting irritating and irritatingly attractive man- perhaps fate was on her side. So she nodded.

"Tails," she said. Killian nodded and in a second the coin was in the air and down again. Emma held her breath. He smiled, and for just one moment she was disappointed.

"Ah well. Merry Christmas, lass. The tree now belongs to you and your boy."

Emma squealed in excitement, clapping her hands and laughing as Killian watched her with an easy smile on his face. For some reason she hugged him, and he chuckled, and though he was surprised she could have sworn he leaned into it and sighed, but that was neither here nor there. Emma turned to Graham.

"Alright Mr. Huntsman, this one is mine!" Emma beamed, ruffling the branches fondly. Graham, still recovering from the oddness of two strangers shouting over a tree and resolving to decide who gets it over a coin toss where the girl wins because she calls tails but it definitely landed on heads, shook his head clear of thoughts and focused on the sale.

"My last name is Humbert," he said. "Huntsman is just a thing for the tree lot."

Emma and Killian stared.

"You know. Huntsman. It's very outdoorsy."

Emma and Killian kept staring. Graham sighed.

"Ok, fine. The tree. Well, she's very pretty indeed," he replied, lifting his axe. "One hundred and thirty."

Emma's heart dropped.

"What?" she gaped in astonishment before getting angry. "No. One hundred flat."

Graham shook his head and turned to Killian.

"You say you're interested in it?" he asked. Killian raised his hand in the air, taking a step back.

"Absolutely not, she won this fair and square. I also think I want to see this," he replied, feet landing a yard away from the scene.

"Come on!" Emma begged, gesturing to Killian. "Even the tree pirate wants me to have it!"

Killian laughed but stayed silent.

"I'm sorry," Graham replied. "There are plenty others here if you want to look at them. I can help you find-"

"You're no help at all," Emma shot back, ignoring Killian's whooping in the background. Graham shrugged, letting his axe arm go limp, the tool now hanging past his knee.

"Nothing I can do," Graham replied. "I'll be over there, helping the redhead and her jolly sailor bold. Find me if you need me," and he walked away, just like that.

"What are you heartless?!" Emma shouted after him. "Do you have a heart?!"

But Graham, probably used to torment from tree customers (especially with these outrageous prices,) just kept walking. Emma sighed, opening up her wallet and beginning to count- one hundred and one dollars and thirty five cents. She groaned in frustration and planted her face in the tree's branches, smelling it one last time…

"Huntsman!" a voice rang out, and Emma stumbled out of the tree, surprised to still find that Killian was there, jogging after Graham. He caught him just a few feet away from the cheerful red head and her boyfriend, and they began to talk. Killian walked Graham over behind one very fat tree, and for a moment Emma lost sight of them. But then Killian reappeared, nose red and smile bright. Emma frowned.

"I hope you enjoy your tree," she grumbled, turning away to search for a less glorious pile of needles, but she felt a tug on her arm.

"Lass, wait!" he said, turning her around. They both glanced down to his gloved hand on her wrist, and when their eyes shot up to meet the others he let go.

"What?" Emma sighed. "You know I've got quite the night ahead of me, and if you keep me here for too long I'm going to have to pitch a tent and-"

"Go out with me."

He said it in such earnest she almost didn't believe that he'd just asked her out. He wasn't cocky or arrogant about it, instead his blue eyes stared at her with such hope that she had to see if she'd heard him right.

"What?" she asked, completely taken by surprise. He scratched behind his ear, clearly a nervous habit, but he said it again.

"Emma. Let me buy you dinner."

Her heart actually fluttered and she wanted to say yes, so badly, but taking a chance with romantics and love (god, love? She only just met this guy and her brain was throwing out the L word) was not her strong suit and her walls immediately came up.

"Look, I've got a kid who needs like, ten thousand calories and cooking for him takes a long time."

"We'll order something for him to go. Dessert too, if you like."

God dammit, eighty percent of the Emma Swan approval test was if he respected the fact that she had a son and he was already buying Henry cake. This was officially getting dangerous.

"And I have to find a tree," she said, but it was such a weak excuse not even she could sell it very well. Killian started scratching behind his ear again and shifted his feet. Emma's eyes narrowed.

"What did you do?" she asked.

"Excuse me?" he asked, mock offended but completely entertained.

"I'm a cop," she replied. "I know the look of a guilty man. You did something. What, did you bet a friend you could get me to go out with you? Or did you-"

But his hands came to Emma's arms in a soothing manner and for some reason she didn't pull away.

"No, love, not at all. I promise you I am nothing less than a gentleman. Just tell me- do you want to go out with me?" he asked. Emma shut her eyes, not wanting to be hypnotized by his blue gaze but it didn't work.

"Yes?" she said, voice lilting, a confession stated with a question mark. "But I've got the tree thing. So you can just… give me your number and-"

But he was shaking his head, releasing her shoulders.

"And wait by the phone for the rest of my life? Not a chance. No, we're doing this now."

Emma huffed.

"But I have to-"

"Love, relax. It's taken care of."

Emma stepped back.

"What?" she asked, not wanting to jump to conclusions but oh my god.

"I… might be guilty of something," he admitted, scratching that spot behind his ear again.

"Killian."

"You know how some blokes buy flowers before a date?"

"Killian."

"Some buy… trees," he smiled. And Emma didn't know what to say. No one had ever done anything like this for her before, and this guy was a stranger.

"I… can't pay you back," Emma said, sticking her hands deep in the pockets of her coat.

"I wouldn't let you," he replied. "Now, you have your tree, I believe you need to get food for your boy, and I also remember you saying that you wanted to go to dinner with a certain dashing tree pirate?" he questioned, and his tongue ran across his lower lips, grinning mischievously. Emma couldn't help but laugh, and she knew that she'd never forgive herself if she walked away.

"Okay," she said, and he looked so happy she was laughing again. He gestured to the pathway and bowed to her with a cheeky grin.

"After you, my lady."

And they went out to dinner, talking over Granny's lasagna and hot chocolate about Christmas (best time of the year) trees (best part of Christmas) and lying about coins that were definitely flipped to heads ("I figured I'd have a better chance of you saying yes if you were victorious in your quest. Though I'm a little disappointed- you must promise to take good care of it." "Well, you can't take my word for it. You're probably going to have to come around and check on it yourself. To be sure." "Suddenly I'm not longer disappointed, but if it's my duty as a tree pirate…")

(The next year they share a tree.)

(And every year for the rest of their lives.)


End file.
